


First encounter

by Dhae



Series: Kingsman Library AU [1]
Category: Kingsman: The Secret Service (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Library, Gen, Prison
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-14
Updated: 2016-05-14
Packaged: 2018-06-08 09:03:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,595
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6848152
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dhae/pseuds/Dhae
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry Hart has a habit. He goes to the library to decompress after hard missions. This time, he meets a lovely young man. But the course of true love never did run smooth, did it?</p>
            </blockquote>





	First encounter

**Author's Note:**

> This is thoroughly an AU. No Valentine plot, and nobody dies. Also, if anybody's interested, I just might write more and turn it into a bit of a series. Well, honestly, I might do that even if there's absolutely zero interest for it... ;)

The familiarity of the place is like coming home, and Harry feels his shoulders dropping incrementally as he nods at the familiar face behind the counter, and receives a reciprocal smile.

The shelves close around him like an embrace, and he loses himself in the aimless browsing he always indulges in on days like these. This book, that book. No, this book, yes, that’s exactly what he didn’t know he was needing.

He settles into the worn upholstery of a chair he uses so regularly he thinks of it as ‘his’. It’s perfectly placed, in the corner for protection, looking out over much of the room, and conveniently close to more bustling spots, so the sound weaves into a tapestry of comfort for a man to whom the quiet in his apartment is far too loud after a mission.

Harry’s tried the mansion, and the shop; hanging around after the end of missions, but there’s always been some new crises to deal with. The noise has always dipped and peaked too abruptly for him to relax.

The public library he’s found, at the very ends of the underground, suits his needs as if it’s been tailored to him. The staff are polite enough to leave him alone. The patrons diverse enough that the gentleman with the twitchy hands, who likes to come in and sit and read, doesn’t attract undue attention. 

And so Harry listens to the buzz of life, and reads his book, and slowly, his hands stop shaking, his gut stops churning, and a calm descends on his mind like a blanket. 

The protagonist is a bit of a tit, and the action is ludicrously improbable, but it does it’s job, as far as Harry’s concerned. He loses himself in the story with nary a thought. 

Consequently it’s a bit of a surprise when someone clears his throat politely not three feet away. 

***

Eggsy would love to claim that he’d been watching the gentleman for a while, but the truth is that he’s been shelving books in the children’s area for a few hours, and before that, he was in the basement. But he sure is noticing him now. 

The man is ridiculously handsome. A square jaw, even features, thick, dark hair. Broad shoulders, solid and straight under a sweater that looks about as expensive as it does soft. Long legs elegantly crossed; the designer jeans doing little to disguise how toned they are. And elegant, broad, capable hands. Oh, yes, Eggsy is definitely noticing him now. 

Still, he’s here on a mission, and sadly, the mission is not to ogle handsome patrons of the library, so he clears his throat politely, so as to not startle the reading man unduly.

He looks up, calmly, and damn, Eggsy thinks, he really thought the man would have some mildly unattractive features, but the dark-rimmed glasses does nothing but emphasize his features, and highlight lovely chocolate-dark eyes. 

“Yes?” he asks, startling Eggsy, who realizes he’s been staring for far too long to be polite, and blushes. 

“Oh, yeah, sorry. Just thought I’d let you know we close in about fifteen minutes.”

“Oh,” the man says, and glances at his watch. And a very nice watch it is. “I must have lost track of the time.”

Eggsy sees his chance to recoup lost ground and leaps at it. “No worries, yeah. Happens to the best of us.” He smiles at the man, and is rewarded by a faint quirking of his lips. 

“Especially in the company of a good book,” he counters, and Eggsy grins. 

“Wouldn’t call that a good book, meself, but it takes all sorts, I guess,” he teases gently, and the man surrenders with an amused snort. 

“The leading man is a bit of a tit, isn’t he?”

Eggsy laughs at that. “If you feel that way about him now, don’t read any of the sequels, yeah? He only gets more stupid.”

“Good God. I wouldn’t have thought that was possible.” 

“You should maybe try Thomas, instead,” Eggsy offers, even though he knows the librarians would probably frown on him offering unsolicited reading-advice to patrons. But, really, he knows the books the man are reading, and he knows the genre. 

“I’ll remember that,” the man promises, and Eggsy feels it like a victory and flushes with pleasure. Which reminds him, he still has some ground to cover.

“Well, anyway. Just thought I’d tell you we were about to close.”

“Wait,” the man commands, and Eggsy finds himself freezing. He’s always had trouble with authorities, but this man has an air of effortless command he finds himself responding to almost as naturally as breathing. “You’re new here, aren’t you? Forgive my manners. My name’s Harry Hart.”

“Eggsy. Eggsy Unwin,” Eggsy replies, almost in a trance. Harry Hart. 

Harry smiles, and Eggsy’s knees go weak. Holy hell. If he thought the man was gorgeous before, that smile should be classified as a lethal weapon. He has dimples! 

“Lovely to meet you, Mr. Unwin. You are new, though, right? I haven’t missed you through some unforgivable oversight?”

Eggsy blushes again. Fuckin’ hell, the man’s flirting with him!

***

Oh, bloody hell, Harry thinks. Flirting with the boy? Really? 

Although his cheeks do turn the most fetching shade of rouge...

“I only been here a couple of months,” Eggsy offers, and Harry feels moderately relieved. It really would have been intolerable if he hadn’t noticed this vision before him. 

The boy is obviously fit. Terribly so, if his solid thighs are indicative of anything, but not a sculpted bodybuilder judging by his toned, but not bulging upper body. The sharpness of his face indicates a leanness, which is bordering on the unattractive to Harry’s picky tastes, but his features are handsome, and his eyes open and guileless. A rare treat in Harry’s experience. 

His clothes are clean, but with a certain cheap uniform quality, which pings something in Harry’s memory, but is currently eluding his conscious mind. His hair is buzzed almost militarily short, and there are bags under his eyes, as if sleep is a rare commodity. 

If he hadn’t been coming off of a three-month mission, which had contained actions unsavoury enough to turn even his stomach, he probably never would have allowed it to go further, but Harry, professional recluse, is feeling the need to connect with someone, and this young man is easy on the eyes, friendly, and they’re already talking. A little human contact seems like a wonderful idea.

“I’m sorry. You need to get on with your work.” He’s not imagining the boy looking disappointed in the abrupt end to their conversation, and it gives him incentive. “We might continue it later? Over a cup of coffee or a pint? I’m not terribly familiar with the area, but…”

He stops himself when he notices that rather than light up, the young man’s face has fallen. Ah. Well, what would such a fine young specimen want with a middle-aged tosser like Harry, anyway? What a fucking pipe-dream to have entertained for even a minute.

“I can’t. ‘m sorry.” The young man looks positively devastated. “‘m on a leash, you see?” He rucks up one trouser leg, and the clues coalesce for Harry. The uniform-like clothes, the buzz-cut hair. 

“Work-release?” Harry asks, just to confirm, and the boy nods. 

“Outta Isis, yeah. Down to me last three months, I am.”

“Well, I do apologize,” Harry says. And then, because he’s tired, and has let down his guard entirely too far; “I do hope I’ll see you again.”

***

Eggsy feels hope rising like a tidal-wave, and it’s a fucking rare and precious feeling. Reckless with it, he throws himself out there.

“‘m here every Monday and Thursday. Ten to five.”

Harry looks pleased at that, and it feels bloody fantastic to be the cause of that softening of features. 

“Excellent! Then I’m certain we’ll see one another again.” He stands, and bloody hell, Eggsy thinks, the man is both taller and broader than he looked in the chair. “Now, you must forgive me for taking up your time. I suspect you have rounds to finish, and I,” he brandishes the book; “have a book to borrow.” He hesitates for a split-second, before his eyes go intense as he lowers his head a fraction. “You see, I never start anything without finishing it.”

Eggsy’s knees go weak. Weak! Damn. He’d always thought that was just a saying made up by stupid people, but right now his knees are ready to give out on him, and his voice has abandoned him entirely, as he gapes like a fucking goldfish. 

“Good day, Eggsy,” the wanker says, and winks, like he knows exactly what he just did to Eggsy’s central nervous system. And then he walks off. Posh bastard. Although, Eggsy has to admit, those jeans do wonderful things to an already impressive backside. 

He shakes himself out of it once he realizes he’s imagining just how that backside would look without any clothes on at all. Fantasizing about a patron on the library floor is a very definite no-no, he feels. But he’ll have plenty of fodder for his late-night wanks for a while. 

And he has hope, that maybe the gorgeous Harry Hart will return, as promised. 

Eggsy is smiling as the staff finally lets him out, and he finds himself whisteling as he heads for the train that’ll take him back to Plumstead and his cell. 

Three months suddenly seem like a perfect amount of time to maybe get to know Harry Hart a bit better…


End file.
